


doctors can't explain my symptoms or my pain (you are my strange addiction)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Series: MacDalton and Ailments [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Bruises, Chronic Illness, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: “I just… I have to take these, okay? It’s not a big deal,” Mac said. He didn’t know why he was being so cagey about it, and for some reason he didn’t expect Jack to reach around him to grab the bottle off the counter and look at the label. “Hey!”Jack clearly didn’t recognize the prescription name, because he kept the bottle out of Mac’s reach. “Now, are you gonna tell me what these are for or do I have to look it up for myself?”Mac was in the middle of leaning on Jack’s chest to try and reach the bottle, but when he heard Jack’s question he sighed and hung his head. “They’re prescription iron supplements, Jack. I’m anemic."(Also known as: Mac's got anemia and he's been hiding it from Jack... you know, along with the whole "being in love with him" thing. Jack finds out about both.)





	doctors can't explain my symptoms or my pain (you are my strange addiction)

**Author's Note:**

> ... do I even need to introduce these anymore? Yo, it's me and [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) back at you once again with another nearly plotless excuse for porn!!! The stuff about anemia is (mostly) medically accurate, neither one of us have it so we based it off what I found through some Googling. This takes place sometime after 3x14 but ignores the rest of the season (because that was when we wrote it originally), and I slapped this puppy together so any mistakes are my own. As always, we hope you enjoy this, and please let us know what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "my strange addiction" by Billie Eilish.)

Jack Dalton noticed a lot more than he let on—between Delta Force and CIA training, observation and situational awareness were second nature at this point in his life. There were times outside of work when it was annoying, and others when it was useful. Most of those other times related to a certain blond-haired genius who had the bad habit of not caring about himself as much as he cared about other people.

It started with little things. When Jack got back from the Kovacs mission, Mac looked paler than he remembered. Usually he had that golden glowing Adonis thing going on, but up until recently he’d been white as a sheet—a week ago, his color started coming back. Mac also seemed tired, yawning and sometimes lagging behind the others, and on their last mission Jack was the one who got roughed up and Mac somehow wound up with a giant bruise on his forearm. And the last strange thing Jack observed was all the fucking _clothes_ —Mac was fond of layers, but lately it was ridiculous, three or four shirts constantly adding bulk to his lean frame.

Jack didn’t say anything right away for two reason: one, he figured if all these little things meant something Mac would tell him on his own, and two… this was awfully weird shit for a friend to notice. Since Jack was a friend who had secretly been in love with Mac for years it wasn’t _that_ weird, but he also didn’t need Mac finding out about his feelings.

Until he came over to hang out at Mac’s one morning and found him popping pills.

 

~***~

 

When Mac had first started experiencing the symptoms of anemia several months ago, he’d been scared shitless that he had aplastic anemia, which was caused by exposure to chemicals and was hard to treat. Turned out he had plain old iron-deficiency anemia, extremely common and easily treated with huge iron supplements. One tablet was the size of his thumbnail and if you didn’t know what they were they looked like anything from an antibiotic to a cancer medicine.

Mac was so preoccupied with not choking on his giant pill that he didn’t notice Jack was in the house until he came striding across the kitchen. “Didn’t realize you were taking meds.”

Mac’s eyes went wide and he fumbled the pill bottle but didn’t drop it, setting it on the counter instead. “Jesus Christ, Jack, you scared the shit out of me!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Don’t change the subject, Mac,” Jack said, and his voice was serious. He rarely sounded like that, and Mac knew that unless a meteor fell through the ceiling right now he was fucked. But why would Jack care so much about some pills… or him? Between Mac going to Nigeria and Jack leaving for a while on the hunt for Kovacs, things had been… distant between them, or at least they’d seemed that way to Mac. It hadn’t stopped him from trying to take advantage of the fact that Jack was a human furnace when they were on missions and Mac was freezing his ass off, though.

“I just… I have to take these, okay? It’s not a big deal,” Mac said. He didn’t know why he was being so cagey about it, and for some reason he didn’t expect Jack to reach around him to grab the bottle off the counter and look at the label. “Hey!”

Jack clearly didn’t recognize the prescription name, because he kept the bottle out of Mac’s reach. “Now, are you gonna tell me what these are for or do I have to look it up for myself?”

Mac was in the middle of leaning on Jack’s chest to try and reach the bottle, but when he heard Jack’s question he sighed and hung his head. “They’re prescription iron supplements, Jack. I’m anemic.”

“Anemic?” Jack repeated, frowning, no doubt feeling how cold Mac’s hands were where they were groping up his arm to get to the pills. “Since when? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Mac could hear the hurt in Jack’s tone and winced. “I… didn’t tell anyone.” He was still leaning against Jack, but he figured if Jack wanted him gone he’d push him away and the warmth was too nice to resist. “Only one of the docs at the Phoenix knows—remember the Armenia mission a while back, when I dove out that window and fell on my ass? I went to medical because my leg kept hurting, and I had a bruise on the back of my thigh that was still bleeding under the skin. They iced it down and started giving me the supplements and now I’m better, more or less.”

“Mac, Armenia was almost six months ago,” Jack said, looking at him with wide eyes. It’d been the first mission they’d gone on together after Jack came back. He set the bottle of pills back on the counter, but Mac didn’t move back. “Why would you keep that a secret? And what do you mean, ‘more or less’?”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret,” Mac protested, although not very hard. “I just… I was afraid if I told you, you’d worry about me when you didn’t have to. Or maybe you wouldn’t want to work together.” He glanced away while he thought about how to answer Jack’s second question. “The doctor told me I’m probably always going to bruise more easily, and I’m… cold, most of the time.”

Closing his eyes, Jack shook his head. “God, I _knew_ something was off about you with how tired you’ve been, the bruises, and all the damn layers you started wearing.” When he looked at Mac again it was with furrowed brows. “Also, are you out of your mind? Did you seriously think I wouldn’t want to work with you because of that?”

“Well, when you say it like _that_ …” Mac trailed off, because Jack was right—a couple years ago something like this never would’ve been an issue, and now Mac made it into one. He ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to take a couple steps back, even though he didn’t want to. He tugged the sleeves of the hoodie (which was actually Jack’s) he was wearing as his top layer down over his hands and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, man. I know things have been weird between us for a while and all I seem to be doing is making it worse.”

“You’re not making anything worse, hoss,” Jack said, clearly hoping to ease Mac’s mind. “You and me, we’re good.”

“Then why do I feel like I have to second-guess everything I do around you now?” Mac asked, without really meaning to—it slipped out. “I noticed you watching me since you got back, I thought maybe… I don’t know what I thought.” He knew exactly what he thought, but even with his mouth running without his brain’s permission he’s not dumb enough to say anything about… _that_.

“You never have to second-guess yourself around me, you know that.” Mac wasn’t looking at Jack, but his tone sounded sincere. “And you said you thought maybe…” He trailed off, just like Mac did. “Maybe what?”

Mac shivered and shook his head. “Nothing, it’s not important.” He studied his kitchen floor like it was interesting, which it wasn’t. He could sense Jack moving, and the next thing he knew he was being tugged forward into Jack’s arms, a noise of surprise leaving his lips. His arms dropped to his sides. “Jack, what are you doing?”

Jack’s arms tightened around him when Mac shuddered, not used to that much warmth surrounding him unless he’d been in bed for a few hours. “Warming you up,” he replied, and Mac could hear the grin in his voice. “I assume that’s why you were always trying to get as close to me as possible during our colder missions? You know, if you needed a portable human furnace, you should’ve just asked.”

Mac cracked a half-smile. “Then you might think I only want you for your body.” That was the furthest thing from the truth—but if Jack knew how Mac _really_ felt about him, there wouldn’t be any hugging. So Mac kept his mouth shut, wrapping his arms around Jack in return and pressing his face into his shoulder.

“Feels like I’m hugging an ice cube,” Jack grumbled when Mac’s cold nose pressed against his collarbone, but his smile was still twined around the words. They stood like that for a while, and eventually Mac felt Jack’s hand slide up his back, tugging at the collar of the hoodie he was wearing to look underneath it. “Uh, Mac? Exactly how many of my clothes have you stolen?”

Mac tensed. “I… might’ve taken a few things while I was checking on your apartment while you were gone, before I got the diagnosis. You own more warm stuff than I do, and I meant to buy my own and return yours, but… I forgot?”

“Are you telling me or asking me?” Jack teased. Thankfully it didn’t seem like he was upset about it. “It’s cool, man, I don’t mind.”

They lapsed into silence for a while, and it was the first time in a long time that it doesn’t feel stilted. Mac would’ve stayed like that forever if he were allowed, but he figured it had to be getting a little strange for Jack. “Are you prepared to stand here for the rest of your life?” he asked, only half-joking. “Because I’m warm for the first time in like… almost a year. And I’m tempted to find some duct tape to keep you here.”

“Well, standing here will get exhausting at some point,” Jack said with a chuckle. “But I’m more than happy to be your furnace on a regular basis, man. How about we move to the couch? We can watch a movie or something while you’re defrosting.”

Mac pulled back and smiled at him. “If you put on _Die Hard_ I’ll kill you,” he said sunnily, and laughed when Jack did. He wriggled out of Jack’s hold long enough to grab them both some hot coffee and they went to the couch. It felt… domestic, and that prompted Mac to wonder why Jack was over at the house so early on a Saturday when they weren’t working. “Why’d you stop by, anyway?”

“What, am I not allowed to drop by to hang out?” Jack joked, and he reached out to wrap an arm around Mac’s shoulders, pulling him into his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Of course you are,” Mac replied, with more sincerity than he probably should’ve, but being that close to Jack lowered the defenses he’d built around his feelings for his partner. He settled his head against Jack’s shoulder, one sneaky hand crawling up under Jack’s t-shirt to get to the warmth of his skin; for a moment he feared he might’ve crossed a line, but Jack didn’t comment on it. “You know if I had my way you’d be living here, right? Bozer’s room is just sitting there, empty.”

Jack turned his head to look at him with wide eyes. “Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I guess? I mean, I know you’re not in love with your apartment, and your lease is up soon,” Mac said. “And it’s not like I’m gonna charge you rent or anything… but I get if you don’t want to live in a place that probably sees more explosions than you do at work.” He was trying to keep everything nonchalant, but truth be told he was a little lonely, and having someone else in the house would give him an excuse to turn the heat on now and then.

“Do you think we’d still be friends if I was bothered by an explosion every now and then?” Jack asked, and Mac could tell he was mulling it over. “I see you really thought this through.”

“You sound surprised—are you implying that I _don’t_ usually think things through?” Mac laughed before he could finish the question, because they both knew thinking things through was not always a priority in the field. The thumb on the hand he had under Jack’s shirt was stroking absently at his skin, Mac’s brain noting the hard muscle underneath it without his permission. “Besides, there’s really nobody else I’d trust to living my house, and we’ve lived together before. I’m sure we could do it again.” He was definitely _not_ thinking about how much harder it would be to hide his feelings from Jack, no sir.

“You have a point… so what the hell, let’s do it.” Jack turned his head to glance down at Mac, and Mac chose that exact moment to look up at him. The result of those actions meant their faces were a lot closer than normal, and for a moment they just stared at each other.

And Mac… Mac wasn’t sure what came over him, but gazing at Jack—who started hugging him when he found out Mac was cold, who agreed to move in with him—made his carefully constructed facade just… break. He leaned up and kissed Jack, feather-light and brief, before his brain kicked back online and he realized he’d probably fucked up the best thing he’d ever had. His eyes went wide like saucers and he started to pull away from Jack’s embrace. “Oh God, Jack, I’m so sorry—”

Jack’s grip on him tightened, and the next thing Mac knew they were kissing again. His brain felt less like it was short-circuiting and more like a full-fledged electrical fire, because Jack wanted to kiss him? Since when? He kissed back tentatively, afraid if he put on too much pressure he’d wake up and this would all be a dream (which, since similar things had happened in the past, it wasn’t all that far-fetched). But Jack didn’t pull away—in fact, he made a little sound and pressed closer, so Mac got his hand out from under Jack’s t-shirt in favor of wrapping his arms around his neck. The kiss was slow and chaste, and Jack pulled away far too soon, but he kept his arms around Mac, holding him firmly like he was afraid Mac might bolt away if Jack let him go.

They blinked at each other for a moment, equally stunned, before Mac said, “So… I guess I don’t have to worry about hiding my feelings from you when you move in.” He cringed internally, because he was always awkward in situations like this, but to his relief Jack laughed. He brought a hand around to touch Jack’s face, thankful his fingers had warmed up. “We might be the dumbest smart people ever.”

“Looks that way,” Jack said, staring at Mac like he’d never seen him before. One of his hands was flat against Mac’s back while the other one had slid down to rest against his hip. “How long have you…”

“Since the Sandbox,” Mac admitted, thumb stroking over Jack’s cheek where skin met stubble. “Not at the start, obviously—although I thought you were pretty hot even when we weren’t getting along. But later? When you came back for me?” Mac smiled, a little self-conscious, a lot affectionate. “I was a goner. Nobody had ever done that for me before.”

“God, we _are_ idiots.” Jack shook his head, laughing again. “Of course I came back for you, how could I not? You had dragged me out of the shadows, became my light in a way no one ever had before. I knew then that my place would always be by your side, in any way you’d have me.”

Mac swallowed hard, a whole host of emotions trying to climb up his throat. “I love you,” he said, unable to catch the words before they could come out. Rather than waiting for a response, he leaned in and kissed Jack again, with a little more intent this time.

Jack kissed him back, tugging him closer, arms wrapping around him tightly. “I love you too.” He managed to pull away long enough to say that before he was kissing Mac again, licking his lower lip and sliding his tongue into his mouth when Mac opened up for him.

The natural thing to do while Jack’s tongue explored his mouth was for Mac to throw a leg over both of Jack’s and crawl into his lap. Not only did Mac want to be closer for kissing, but this was _Jack_ —he always wanted to be as close to him as possible, plus he was starting to get cold again. “I don’t think my iron dose is high enough,” he said in between kisses. “But I don’t care right now.”

“I’ll keep you warm, darlin’,” Jack muttered against Mac’s lips, and slid his hands under all the layers he was wearing, running them up and down over Mac’s bare skin.

Mac shuddered, but in a different way than when he was cold—this was more sinuous and pushed them even closer together. He nipped playfully at Jack’s lower lip, sighing and going a little boneless under his touch where it raked over his spine and shoulder blades. He felt Jack smile before he broke the kiss to press a trail of them against Mac’s jaw and lower, to his neck, nuzzling at him before sucking on his skin. Mac gasped and arched into the press of Jack’s mouth, his fingertips digging into Jack’s shoulders. He could smell gunpowder and leather coming faintly from his clothes and fresh on Jack’s, and that comparison was enough to make his head spin; he was wearing Jack’s clothes, in front of Jack, and Jack didn’t mind. Add that to the list of things Mac never thought were possible.

“ _Jack_ ,” Mac moaned when Jack bit down on his neck, and that sound was enough to make Jack wrap an arm around Mac and use the other one to shift them so he was lying on his back, pulling Mac down on top of him.

Mac was more than happy with the change in position, going so far as wriggling out of the hoodie and tossing it on the coffee table. The sleeves on it were huge, which was great for warmth but not so great for making out. That exposed the thermal shirt he had on underneath it, olive drab and worn out in the shoulders and arms from Jack shooting target practice in it; as soon as the hoodie was gone Mac’s mouth was back on Jack’s, another little moan escaping him when one of Jack’s hands slid down to palm his ass.

“I thought you were cold,” Jack teased when Mac broke the kiss to mouth at his jaw. He ran his other hand up and down Mac’s back, groaning when Mac’s teeth grazed his skin.

“Not anymore,” Mac replied against his throat, nipping there before he ran into the collar of Jack’s t-shirt. He pouted for a split second before leaning back far enough to ruck Jack’s shirt up, tugging it up and over his head with Jack’s assistance.

That gave him a lot more skin to admire… and to bite. He kissed Jack’s collarbone before sliding lower, giving his left nipple an experimental lick before sucking on it, making Jack curse under his breath. After a moment he moves on, kissing his way to Jack’s right side, to the scar from a stab wound between Jack’s ribs; Mac remembered when Jack got that one, after a guy charged at Mac with a knife and Jack pushed him out of the way, taking the hit himself. Mac licked over the scar and grinned against Jack’s skin before moving lower still, sucking a bruise near his bellybutton. He moved back for a moment to pull off the thermal shirt, revealing a Motörhead t-shirt underneath it. His clever fingers toyed with the buckle on Jack’s belt while his mouth worked at another patch of skin, asking a silent question.

“God, Mac,” Jack gasped, throwing his head back when Mac’s teeth sunk into his skin, and then Mac tugged harder at Jack’s belt buckle. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

Mac’s eyes lit up and he unbuckled Jack’s belt and got his jeans open, all while nibbling at Jack’s hipbone like it offended him. Once he got the jeans down over Jack’s ass it was simple to free his cock from his underwear and lick a stripe up it from base to tip. Jack let out a deep groan that was quickly followed by a choked sound when Mac just swallowed down his cock in one smooth motion, because apparently he didn’t have a gag reflex. His hand automatically traveled to Mac’s head and he tangled his fingers in Mac’s hair, the warmth around his cock making his hips stutter.

Contrary to the majority of people he’d met, Mac had always liked oral sex—give or receiving, but mostly giving. And he wasn’t one to brag about himself, but he thought he was pretty good at it, and Jack’s reactions made it all the more enjoyable, especially when he felt Jack’s nails scraping his scalp. He moved up and down on Jack’s cock a few times before sinking back to the base and swallowing, lightly at first, throat fluttering around the intrusion as he tried hard not to think about what it would feel like to have Jack fuck his mouth.

… That lasted for about five seconds because he could feel how Jack was holding back, trying to keep himself still. Swallowing again, he tapped Jack’s hip, and when that didn’t work, Mac grunted and grabbed Jack’s other hand, sliding that one into his hair too. Then he pulled up and slid back down again, only this time he let the weight of Jack’s hands on his head hold him there, breathing through his nose. He aimed a pointed stare in Jack’s direction and had to suppress a laugh when Jack’s eyes almost rolled up in his head.

 He tightened his grip on Mac’s hair and moved his hips, thrusting shallowly at first. Mac leaned his weight on his forearms and let Jack control the pace, the grip on his hair just tight enough to pinch, tingling through Mac’s scalp on each upstroke. He was rock fucking hard in his sweatpants (which were, shockingly, his own) and when Jack’s grip slipped a little on the next thrust his cock hits the back of his throat hard enough to make Mac’s eyelashes flutter, a muffled groan escaping him.

The next time Mac’s mouth pulled up, Jack’s hands left his hair. “Darlin’, as much fun as this is—and as good as you are at it, goddamn—is this how you wanted to…?”

“Good point,” Mac said, voice hoarse. He crawled up Jack’s body and leaned down to press their lips together in a hard, deep kiss. “In that case, we should probably move somewhere more comfortable.”

Jack trembled underneath him and hooked an arm around Mac’s waist, pushing him back far enough to kick off his jeans and underwear. Rather than expecting Mac to get as naked as he was and wind up freezing, Jack gripped Mac by the waist and just… picked him up. This from the guy who was always bitching about his back or his knees killing him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Mac whispered, clutching him tightly and rolling his eyes when Jack smirked at him as they headed for the bedroom.

Once they got there, Jack lowered Mac on the bed, climbing on after him and grabbing the hem of the t-shirt Mac was wearing. Mac, in turn, smiled and wriggled out of it, only to reveal a black tank top underneath it. Jack groaned theatrically and Mac laughed, pushing his mindlessly groping hands away in favor of pulling off the last shirt, finally revealing skin. He shivered a little despite his arousal and Jack’s proximity, so Jack yanked the covers on the bed down and shuffled both of them underneath the blankets while he worked on getting Mac out of his pants.

Mac’s heart stuttered at the idea that Jack thought of Mac’s comfort first, and if he wasn’t already ridiculously in love that would’ve sealed the deal. Since Mac was wearing sweatpants it was easy for Jack to get him out of them, and once all the clothes were gone got on top of Mac to kiss him again and roll his hips down at the same time. Mac moaned against Jack’s lips, hands starting out on his back but sliding down to his ass embarrassingly quickly, pulling him closer. The saliva Mac left behind on Jack’s cock functioned as some nice lube, the way they were rubbing together enough to drive Mac crazy… but he wanted more.

“Jack,” Mac said, lips trailing away to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Oh God,” Jack groaned, hips stuttering forward. “Do you have—” he started, but Mac was already reaching for the nightstand, opening the drawer and tossing a bottle of lube to Jack a few seconds later. “Never mind.”

Jack poured some lube on his fingers before he dove in to kiss Mac again, and the first press of a finger against his entrance made Mac’s hips twitch—into it or away from it, he couldn’t tell, but Jack’s finger slid inside anyway. He gasped into Jack’s mouth, toes curling as that calloused digit probed and explored. “Oh, _oh_ , Jack, you’re gonna kill me.”

Smirking against Mac’s lips, Jack kept moving his finger in and out before adding a second one, almost immediately scissoring his fingers, a sinful sound escaping Mac’s throat. And if this was how Mac was going to die, it would be one hell of a way to go. His thighs squeezed Jack’s sides, and when those two fingers found his prostate Mac almost bit through Jack’s lower lip, which only served to make him chuckle, the bastard. Jack broke the kiss and started mouthing over Mac’s jaw as he added a third finger, and there was no doubt in Mac’s mind that he noticed the purple splotches already forming on Mac’s anemic skin from earlier. Mac clenched around his fingers and let out an impatient whine, so Jack slipped them out and kissed Mac’s collarbone before making his way back up to his lips.

Mac knew what Jack was going to ask before he formed the words and shook his head. “I’m clean—I trust you,” he said, hands moving up to frame Jack’s face. “I just want to feel you.”

Jack pressed a kiss to Mac’s mouth before lubing himself up and locking their gazes. He started pushing in slowly, Mac’s lips parting as his hands moved to grip Jack’s shoulders. The insistent press of Jack’s cock inside him was incredible, unrelenting heat and fullness that felt perfect, just this side of too much. Mac forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths once their hips were flush together, his own cock pulsing in time with his rapid heartbeat.

He could feel the tension in Jack’s muscles and smoothed his hands down his arms. “It’s okay, you can move.”

Jack did, thrusting in and out shallowly at first, groaning when Mac wrapped his legs around his waist. Thrusting a bit harder, Jack set a pace—he snapped his hips rhythmically, his lips going back to Mac’s even though they weren’t really kissing, more like panting into each other’s mouths. Mac couldn’t help the sounds he started making, punched-out things that verged dangerously close to whimpers. They went up in pitch when Jack nailed his prostate dead-on, leaning his weight on one forearm, his other hand sliding under Mac’s thigh to grip it—maybe a little too hard—and lift it higher to keep that angle.

He started thrusting faster, mouthing at Mac’s neck and lower until he was sucking yet another bruise into his collarbone. The bruises were like bright stars of pain, burning at all different points on Mac’s body and only ratcheting up his pleasure. He was moving back into Jack’s thrusts now, their bodies all but slamming together, a particularly sharp thrust rocking Mac up the bed. The next sharp thrust punched his prostate and he cried out a garbled version of Jack’s name, but it wasn’t quite enough to make him come.

Letting out a growl, Jack let go of Mac’s thigh in favor of grabbing his wrists with his hands and pinning them down on either side of Mac’s head, his hips still pounding into Mac relentlessly. The pressure of Jack’s hands on his wrists like that was amazing, it was great—but again, it wasn’t _enough_. Mac knew they were both close, but he also knew there was something missing that could push them both over the edge. He struggled a bit against Jack’s hold—which sent a tingle up his spine, they would need to explore _that_ at a different time—and got one hand free.

And whatever Jack was expecting him to do with that hand, it probably wasn’t Mac grabbing his wrist and placing his hand on Mac’s throat.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, his hips stilling, but he didn’t move his hand away. “Mac?”

Mac wondered for a split second if he’d pushed too far, but Jack didn’t seem upset, just… dumbfounded. “I trust you,” he said, with the same conviction from earlier, lust and love in those three little words. “But if you don’t want to…” Because of course it wasn’t all about Mac; if the idea made Jack uncomfortable Mac wasn’t going to pressure him.

“No, I’m… I’m good,” Jack choked out, rubbing his thumb against the skin of Mac’s neck before squeezing gently.

The corners of his lips quirked up in a smirk when Mac’s whole body instantly shuddered, his hips twitching up. Keeping Mac’s wrist pinned to the mattress with his other hand, Jack shifted a bit and then started thrusting again. If you asked Mac to describe the dual sensation of Jack thrusting into him and squeezing his throat, it was pure liquid pleasure that scorched through his whole body at once. It wasn’t long before Jack’s pace picked up to what it was before, those rapid, deliciously deep pushes of his hips that quickly became Mac’s new favorite thing—one of those thrusts combined with a too-tight squeeze around his throat had him coming untouched all over his stomach, eyes rolling back in his head at the breathlessness of how good it felt.

Jack let out a deep growl when Mac clenched around him, moving his hand from Mac’s throat to his wrist to pin it down like the other one, and he kept pounding into him, getting soft breathless sounds out of Mac with every thrust. Burying his face in the crook of Mac’s neck, Jack finally came after another moment, biting down on Mac’s skin, his grip tightening on his wrists and his hips eventually stilling. Mac was gasping for air, his heart racing like it wanted to rabbit right out of his chest. The feeling of being completely surrounded by Jack, getting filled up with his come, it was… mind blowing. There was a little pull in his throat every time he breathed in and he figured they might’ve overdone it a little… and then he remembered the anemia and started laughing, because he probably looked like somebody tried to strangle him to death.

Mac glanced down at himself and saw all the places Jack nipped at and recalled how he gripped his wrists and his thigh, and realized he had bruises all over his body. He kept laughing, and that was enough to make Jack lift his head from where he’d collapsed on top of him, gaze falling on the bruises, and because Jack was Jack Mac could see the guilt building in his eyes.

Mac wriggled out of Jack’s loosened grip so he could put his hands on Jack’s face and pulled him down for a kiss, still giggling a little. “I look like a crash test dummy,” he said when they parted, fingers scratching absently through the stubble on Jack’s jaw. “And for once it’s not because a bunch of bad guys beat me up.”

“You… you don’t mind?” Jack asked, running his fingers against the bruises on the side of Mac’s neck and lower to his chest, his touch feather light.

“No?” Mac replied, but there was a question tacked on the end of the single syllable—did Jack mind? He tried to think of a way to explain how it felt, and came up with, “It reminds me that this is real. That what happened between us today is real. And it felt pretty damn good in the moment, so I’ll live with the bruises for a few days.”

Jack smiled softly, kissing the bruise forming on Mac’s throat before doing the same to the corner of his mouth and then his cheek. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find it was all just a dream,” he admitted, shifting a bit so he wasn’t lying directly on top of Mac and crushing him with his weight.

Mac’s arms wrapped around Jack and he pressed a kissed to the closest thing to him, which happened to be Jack’s chin. “Me too,” he said, but thanks to the ache radiating through his whole body it was hard to forget it happened. “So I guess you won’t need to move into Bozer’s room after all. Pretty sure I want you in here.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jack muttered, reaching up to run his fingers through Mac’s hair. “You know, most couples wait a _bit_ longer than an hour of actually being together before moving in together.”

“Then I guess we’re not most couples.” Mac was proud that he sounded a lot calmer than he felt at the prospect of them being in a relationship. He smiled at Jack, leaning into his touch without conscious thought. “But I mean, with our track record is that surprising?”

“Definitely not.” Jack chuckled, and Mac can feel it where their chests are pressed together.

He snuggled closer, even though they probably should’ve cleaned up, but… Jack was warm, and Mac was getting cold again. “Mhmm, how are you always so warm?” he mumbled, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder.

“Natural talent?” Jack offered, running a hand up and down Mac’s back for a moment before something occurred to him. “Hey, you know what else is warm? The shower. We could take one together, and then I’ll be more than happy to play space heater for you.”

Shifting again to look at Jack, Mac winced at the pull of drying come against his skin. “Yeah, okay, a shower’s probably not a bad idea.” He leaned in and kissed Jack’s lips just because he could, a smile spreading on Mac’s face. “I’m glad I don’t have to come up with excuses to cuddle up to you anymore.”

Jack grinned back at him. “Me too, man—besides, I’m pretty sure we can come up with some more fun ways to keep you warm besides cuddling.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Mac laughed, hoping fervently that this thing between them never stopped feeling too good to be true.


End file.
